Memories of Yesteryear
by themswritinwords
Summary: Hermione Granger never expected to be in the middle of Stalingrad fighting for her life with two strangers as her closest companions. She never expected magic to be real. She never expected to fall in love in the middle of a warzone. She never expected the price she would have to pay to survive. WWII AU. hhr.
1. Ch 1 - The Beginning

Pairing: Harry/Hermione

Summary: Hermione Granger never expected to be in the middle of Stalingrad fighting for her life with two complete strangers as her closest companions. She never expected magic to be real. She never expected to fall in love with one of those strangers in the middle of a warzone. She never expected the war to change her the way it did. WWII AU. hhr.

**A/N: This will be a very AU story of Harry & Hermione fighting in WWII during the Battle of Stalingrad, and a certain amount of suspension of disbelief will be required to enjoy it, and do keep in mind that while I will be mostly historically accurate, I will be changing some things around in order to fit my plot.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Enemy At the Gates, the movie that inspired this story; I own none of the characters from the book and/or movie that are present in this story, all I own is the plot of this story and any OCs. Certain historical facts, figures, and other ideas are mentioned, but everything else is a work of fiction. I will of course, also be taking several liberties with historical facts and events.**

* * *

Ch. 1 - The Beginning

* * *

**October 31st, 1947**

"_Hermione, can you tell me what the war was like for you? You never talk about it."_

_"It's painful Harry, and you know we don't have a lot of time as it is. Do you really want to spend it dwelling on something so terrible?"_

_"I know love, but I want to hear about it from you. I want to know what it was like from your point of view. Besides, I think you owe me for dragging me out here every year, especially since I told you not to in the first place."_

_"Oh alright, if it will make you happy. Where do you want me to start?"_

_"The beginning love, leave nothing out."_

_"Alright then, the beginning."_

~o0o~

She remembered loving the smell of the ocean, the feel of ocean spray on her face.

She had always wanted to do something for the war effort, to be a part of something bigger, to relieve the plight of those oppressed by the Nazi war machine.

The Brits wanted to assure the Russians that they were on the same side and were as committed to ending the war as they were. Operation Dervish, the convoy the _Lancastrian Prince_ was a part of, set off August 21st, 1941.

She was a deckhand, mopping the floors, occasionally helping with light physical tasks. She made no friends on that voyage, preferring to submerge herself in the sparse library afforded to the crew members during their off-duty hours.

She loved the poetry most of all.

It didn't matter, really, as the ship was sunk just outside of its destination, Archangel, and almost all hands were lost. For the longest time, she thought she was the only survivor. That would change by 1942.

Stranded in the port city, she had few options available to her. Having spent most of her childhood attempting to sate an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, she was well versed in multiple languages, one of which happened to be Russian. At least she had no trouble on that end.

For better or for worse, the Red Army was recruiting, and she was selected to undergo sharpshooter training, along with several other women around her age.

The journalist attached to her unit was delighted to have a British citizen serving in the Red Army. He said it would bolster support for the cause, having a foreigner fighting for the Rodina. What cause she benefited, she never knew.

She remembered what a sight they were, crisp Red Army uniforms, hair tucked in neat buns underneath their Pilotka's, standing tall and proud. They had yet to be issued their rifles, but at that moment, they felt powerful.

Barely two weeks after their training was complete, orders came down to her unit to take up postings in Stalingrad. The German advance was cutting swiftly through Russia, and Hitler had set his sights on the city. They were to be issued their Mosin-Nagants on the bank of the river Volga before they crossed into the city proper. She learned that they would also be assigned a spotter shortly after.

She remembered how important it was to have a spotter working in tandem with the sniper. They were close-range support, either equipped with a regular Mosin that did not have a PU scope attached, or a PPSH-41, a close-range submachine gun. Spotters also worked to identify targets for the sniper and to verify a sniper's kill in a tally book. Without secondhand verification, a sniper's word was not enough to confirm a kill.

The journey from Port Archangel to Stalingrad passed uneventfully for her, only the occasional stop for supplies marked the passage of time. Long, rolling fields became the backdrop of those hazy days gone by. When they reached the bank of the Volga, they had found it swarming with activity. Transport trucks unloaded all manner of supplies and men, and the smell of diesel was overwhelming. The German 6th Army, as well as parts of the 4th Panzer Army, were mere days away, and supplies and manpower were being shipped across the Volga at a frantic pace.

Her unit was pulled to the side to a small staging area, at the end of one of the many piers lining the dock. There were many crates scattered about the pier, filled with ammo, medicine, rations, anything Russian High Command deemed necessary in the defense of Stalingrad.

They had milled about for a while until a Russian commissar, along with 2 pairs of soldiers each carrying one crate walked into view. The commissar gestured to the men and they dropped the crates in front of her group and popped them open. Inside the crates were their rifles; Mosin-Nagants modified with PU scopes for long-range target acquisition and takedown.

She remembered meeting him for the first time shortly after.

~o0o~

**July 10th, 1942**

She pulled out one of the rifles and inspected the bolt, pulling it back all the way and checking the chamber for any detritus that may have taken hold, and was delighted to see it clean. She knew that the rifles had to have come straight from the factory, given their present, unfired cleanliness. All the rifles she had handled in training had been hand me downs, the chamber often requiring a thorough cleaning before she even considered firing it downrange. The first thing on her list of to-dos was to acquire several strips of drab grey cloth to wrap around the length of the barrel, as well as around the PU scope, in order to better blend into the concrete buildings of Stalingrad.

She sighed, sliding the bolt back into place and leaning it against the crate she was sitting on, buttstock on the wooden pier. She hadn't eaten since arriving on the docks that morning and was looking forward to some hot food before they were shipped across the Volga.

"Ms. Granger, is that you?"

She looked up, startled by the sound of the Queen's English on a dock full of Russians. A dark-haired man about her age with startling green eyes framed by a set of glasses stood a couple of feet away from her makeshift chair, a standard Red Army uniform in place, several round pouches attached to his hip, giving away his weapon of choice even before she looked at said weapon in his hand.

"Yes," she began in English hesitantly, before noticing the 2 red and 1 gold V-shaped stripes affixed to his right shoulder, and hastily stood at attention.

"Forgive me comrade-lieutenant, I didn't see your insignia."

She was surprised, and slightly confused, when all he did was laugh and bade her to stand at ease.

"Ms. Granger, no need to stand on ceremony, you're one of the three surviving members of the Lancastrian Prince. Rank means nothing between the three of us, understand?"

Surviving members of the Lancastrian Prince? Of course! That's why he seemed vaguely familiar; he must have been a crew member alongside herself. Wait, he mentioned that she was one of three surviving members…

"Ah, forgive me, Ms. Granger," the man started, almost as if he'd read her mind, and looking slightly bashful for some reason. "Junior Lieutenant Harry Potter, a pleasure to meet you. This young woman over here," he said, clasping both hands on a woman's shoulders and pulling her to the forefront, "is Corporal Sarah Vaillancourt, the last member of our little trio, as that Red Star reporter has taken to calling us."

Startled, Hermione got her first look at the last member of their impromptu trio, having not even noticed her until Potter had dragged her in front of him. Blonde hair tied up in a bun, piercing blue eyes, and a haughty, regal-like face that betrayed nothing but cool indifference. The woman, Vaillancourt, looked her over, and Hermione felt like she was being sized up as a potential threat; to Vaillancourt herself or to Potter, she wasn't sure, but she bet her paltry salary on the latter. Hermione didn't miss the subtle squaring of Vaillancourt's shoulders, or the way she moved just that bit closer to Potter, in a way that suggested a fierce protectiveness the woman was obviously trying to hide.

She shrugged the thought off, she didn't really care one way or another.

"Nice to meet you, Comrade-Lieutenant Potter, Comrade Vaillancourt," she said, sticking her hand out, and in turn shaking Potter's, then Vaillancourt's hands. "Junior-Sergeant Hermione Granger, at your command Comrade-Lieutenant Potter."

Potter looked at her for a moment, just like Vaillancourt had done, and she found herself becoming uncomfortable under his gaze, though not as much as with Vaillancourt. Noticing the Mosin leaning against her makeshift chair, his eyes light up with recognition.

"First thing, it's just Potter, alright Granger? No need for rank between us three. Besides, we aren't Russians anyway, just 3 stranded Brits trying to make it through this war," Potter said, finishing his sentence with a smile her way. She nodded and resolved to just call the two of them Potter and Vaillancourt. Although, with the way the conversation was going so far, she had a feeling she wouldn't be calling Vaillancourt much of anything.

"Now," Potter continued, "the second thing I wanted to talk to you about, and really, the main reason Sarah and I came over in the first place, was your rifle."

"My rifle?" She looked between him and her Mosin, confused by Potter's seemingly random interest in her weapon.

"Mhm, seeing as you are lacking a spotter for said rifle of yours, I hereby volunteer myself as your spotter. Since Sarah and I are a matched set, she can provide extra security for both of us."

Hermione thought it over. It wasn't a bad idea; she needed a spotter anyway in order to properly operate and having an extra gun around never hurt anyone. She was slightly suspicious of the offer, especially since they had just met each other, regardless of their similar origins, but she was willing to give Potter the benefit of the doubt. Besides, he was still her commanding officer, regardless of his apparent disregard for rank, so there wasn't much she could do anyway. The only problem was getting reassigned under Potter meant she would fall under a wholly different unit...

Again, as if plucking the thought from her mind, Potter said, "Don't worry about your commander, I'll go sort things out with him, get you reassigned to under my command."

"How?" Hermione said, knowing her commander, he'd sooner shoot Potter then let a random Junior-Lieutenant take her away from his prized sniper unit.

"I have my ways Ms. Granger," Potter said with a wink, and with that said, started to walk away, a jaunty tune wetting his lips before he stopped and addressed Vaillancourt.

"If you don't mind Sarah, keep Granger over here company while I speak to her commander, eh?"

With that said, Potter turned back around and resumed his journey to the command bunker, weaving in and out of soldiers, other officers, and piles of supplies littered about the docks. With Potter gone, an awkward silence befell her and Vaillancourt, with said woman not attempting any form of communication, seemingly content with just staring at the spot where Potter has been, absentmindedly fiddling with the safety on her SVT-40. After several minutes, Vaillancourt turned to address her, a mild French accent coloring her words.

"Granger is it?" Vaillancourt began, setting her rifle down and sitting on the crate next to hers.

Caught off guard by the sudden conversation, Hermione could only nod her head in confirmation.

"'Arry is a good man and will always put others before himself." Vaillancourt sighed, seemingly very frustrated with this facet of Potter.

"'Arry saved my life several weeks ago, and almost died in the process." Hermione looked up and saw a brief flash of sorrow coloring her features before she schooled them back to a mask of indifference. "That stupid man would not leave me behind when the Germans overran our trenches. 'Arry was shot several times, and the surgeons said his heart stopped more than once."

Hermione wondered why she decided to tell her of all people this, especially since they had just met. At least it explained why Vaillancourt was so protective of Potter.

"The reason I am telling you this Granger is that I want you to help me."

Hermione looked confusedly at her. "Help you? Why do you need my help?" She couldn't fathom why this woman, who she just met and didn't know anything about, was essentially telling her life story in regard to Potter, and who was now asking for her help.

"Help me keep him alive, damn it!" Vaillancourt said fiercely, her face peering anxiously into hers. "'Arry won't stop putting his life at risk for others. He cares so much, and I fear that one day it will be the death of him. You must help me bring him home. I owe him that much after all that I've done to him," she finished softly, and Hermione got the feeling she wasn't supposed to hear that last part.

Hermione didn't see a downside to agreeing with the blonde-haired woman. If Potter was to be her spotter, she would protect him to the best of her abilities anyway, and with Vaillancourt tagging along too, it wouldn't be too hard of a job. She stuck out her hand towards Vaillancourt, and the other woman grasped it firmly, giving her hand a quick shake before letting go.

"Thank you, Granger, I really appreciate this," she said, a small smile briefly playing across her lips before her features settled back into a look of cold indifference. Vaillancourt settled back onto her makeshift chair, putting her rifle down next to Hermione's and closing her eyes, seemingly intent on getting a nap in before they were shipped across the Volga.

Hermione debated on whether or not to question her on her relationship with Potter when the staccato bark of machine-gun fire ripped through the air, as well as the telltale sirens of Stuka dive bombers. She and Vaillancourt quickly scrambled up as much of their gear as they could and made a beeline for the command bunker, intent on getting as far away from the docks as possible, as they presented a juicy target for the Luftwaffe pilots.

All along the docks, men scrambled about, abandoning their tasks in favor of foxholes and trenches, anything that could provide shelter from the bombs that would soon drop. Machine gun fire from several Anti-Aircraft emplacements continued to cut through the air in an attempt to shoot down, or at the very least, ward off the oncoming dive bombers.

Hermione managed to throw herself into a foxhole next to the command bunker right before the first bombs fell. Hermione covered her head with her hands as shockwaves rocked the earth beneath her, the bombs detonating and causing dirt and supplies to be thrown into the air. She heard a dull thud next to her, and she quickly snapped to attention, her eyes were drawn to the dull grey of a 45 kg bomb that had landed next to her fox hole, having burrowed itself halfway into the ground.

All she could do was stare at it in disbelief, wondering why it hadn't gone off, and thanking her lucky stars that it didn't. She was startled when a pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away from the live ordnance.

"Firing pin must have failed to go off, come on Granger, let's leave the sappers to bag the thing before it explodes."

She could only nod in acceptance as she allowed Potter to steer her away from her would-be killer.

After collecting Vaillancourt from a nearby foxhole, the trio made their way back to the docks, surveying the damage left behind by the attack. The short road leading back to the docks had received very little damage, with only one or two craters where supply caches had been, the destroyed supplies littering the area. Hermione stopped at an open crate and pulled out several lengths of drab grey cloth to use on her Mosin, as well as an extra bandolier for her clips of ammo. Happy with her newly acquired gains, she caught up with the other two and the trio continued on their way.

They passed by several injured soldiers who were being tended to by the nurses at the aid station alongside the road. The real damage was at the docks, where soldiers and officers alike were scrambling to clear the debris and injured so they could return to normal operations. Small fires dotted the banks on their side of the Volga, and several piers were destroyed, bits of wood and supplies floating serenely down the river.

Potter lead them to the pier they were originally at, and they found that it was undamaged by the enemy attack, something that Hermione was quite grateful for, as she had foregone most of her gear in the mad dash to safety. Potter stopped near the edge of the pier and bade the two women to take up seats near him.

"Well Granger," he began, "it looks like you are going to be seeing a lot more of Sarah and me, seeing as you are now under my command."

Hermione was surprised that Potter managed to convince her commander to transfer her, but she didn't voice those thoughts aloud. She was secretly glad to be assigned to Potter, he seemed like a capable leader, smart, compassionate, and wasn't at all like her unit commander.

"Understood sir, what are your orders?" Hermione said, coming out of her musings. She hoped her orders included a trip to the mess hall.

"I think the three of us could use some hot food, don't you think Sarah?" Potter replied, prompting a response from the blonde.

"That would be most agreeable 'Arry," Vaillancourt replied, a soft smile briefly adorning her lips.

The two picked up their gear and headed towards the mess, while Hermione lagged behind, squaring away her new acquisitions into her rucksack for later use.

"You coming with, Granger?" Harry called back to her over his shoulder.

"Yeah, just had to put away a few things," she replied.

She swung her rifle over her shoulder and hurried after the pair, intent on grabbing what might be her last hot meal and hopefully get a chance to learn more about her new squadmates.


	2. Ch 2 - First Contact

**A/N: I hope everyone who read chapter one enjoyed it and is looking forward to finding out what happens next for the trio. Not going to lie, this chapter got away from me a bit, and is a lot longer than I had planned it to be. Without further ado, chapter two.**

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Ch. 2 - First Contact

* * *

**October 31st, 1947**

"_You never told me about the conversation with Sarah before."_

"_I didn't think it relevant at the time. She seemed awfully protective of you. At the time I didn't really know why, but it became pretty obvious as the months went on."_

"_Oh? Pray tell, what was this 'obvious' reason?" _

"_She was smitten by you!"_

"_Ah yes, I remember now. Bloody awkward dealing with that situation; I felt terrible really, but what was I supposed to do?"_

"_Oh Harry, you were always so bad when it came to matters of the heart."_

"_I resent that. I got you, didn't I?"_

"_So you did."_

"_So, what's next Hermione? Are you going to tell me all about Sarah's feelings for me, and how I was completely blind to her oh so obvious advances until she practically pounced onto my lap?"_

"_Nope, I'll save that for later. I think I'll pick up my tale shortly after the beginning of the German advance through Stalingrad."_

"_Are you referring to that squad of soldiers and the Panzer IV?"_

"_Yes, and how you, being the barmy wanker you are, almost died trying to blow up said Panzer."_

"_Ah yes, but you forgot the part where I wasn't actually in any real danger."_

"_Because of your magic?"_

"_Mhmm, because of my magic."_

~o0o~

She remembered their first mission together. It was a routine scouting mission, one that snipers sometimes pull because of their ability to blend in and stay still for long hours. They had been sent to a street that supposedly held some value to Russian High Command, therefore they had to see if there were Germans holding said street. If there were none, they were to hold position for 3 days, observing and reporting, until reinforcements arrived to secure the street. If the Germans showed up any time during that 3-day time period, they were to radio in to command and engage and delay for as long as feasibly possible, and then retreat.

High Command valued its sniper units much more than the average squad, especially the unit consisting of 3 British nationals fighting for Russia. Normally a squad would have been told to hold no matter what, but in the trio's case, they were more valuable alive and fighting.

She remembered taking up positions in the bombed-out buildings that were at the end of the street that had a perfect view all the way to the other end of the road. Harry had ordered a squad of sappers to take up positions along the left side of the street, in case of any enemy armor showing up.

The first two days were thankfully uneventful, so the trio spent most of their time getting to know one another. Sarah slowly opened up to her, as much as someone like her could in such a short time period anyway, and Harry mostly talked about his life before the war, though it was limited to vague references about his time at a boarding school in Scotland. Harry also managed to get her to call them by their first names, at least when there was not a superior officer around.

She remembered when their little slice of peace in Stalingrad was shattered on the third day.

~o0o~

**August 3rd, 1942**

"Hermione, do you have anyone back home?"

The past few weeks had been spent getting to know each other, and she found her new companions to be very pleasant company; Harry more so than Sarah, however. The blonde-haired woman had opened up a little the more time they spent together, and she was nice enough whenever they spoke, but Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was _something _that lay in between them. Sarah was always just a tiny bit hesitant to include her into conversations, and once or twice Hermione thought she had caught a look of annoyance shot her way whenever she started up a conversation with Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, she had come to enjoy the company of immensely. She enjoyed the long conversations they had whenever they had the time, swapping childhood stories and memories of better times. He was kind, compassionate, and always seemed to put her at ease with just his presence alone. She counted herself lucky that she could call him her friend. Lately, they had taken to asking each other questions of a more personal note, to get to know each other better, so she wasn't all that surprised by the question. That didn't mean she wasn't curious as to _why_ he had asked that particular question, however.

She was laying on her stomach, peering down the scope of her rifle out of the many holes in the building created by the fierce fighting. Seeing nothing besides the debris from destroyed buildings and broken tank hulls from previous attempts to push through the area by the Germans, Hermione rolled onto her back and sat up to regard Harry with a questioning stare.

"No, I don't. Why do you ask?" She added after a few seconds of silence. She knew Harry was getting uncomfortable with the way he messed with the safety on his PPSH, a habit that he apparently shared with Sarah, Hermione noted with some annoyance. _Is there _anything_ these two don't have in common?_

"Well… uh, you see," Harry said, his fidgeting gradually getting worse the more he tried to say whatever it was that was on his mind.

"Oh for Merl-Gods sake 'Arry, you are such a wreck sometimes," Sarah said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes at the man, while at the same time shooting a discreet glance at Hermione to see if she had noticed her almost slip of the tongue. Thankfully for her, Hermione was too busy trying not to laugh at Harry's put-out expression.

"What 'Arry was trying to say is that he is a firm believer in having something to fight for. If that something is a someone, even better, or so he says," she finishes her sentence with yet another eye roll, leading Hermione to believe that Sarah isn't quite in the same camp as Harry.

"I suppose Harry has some merit, a soldier with a cause fights harder than one without and coming home to a lover is quite a compelling cause for most," Hermione mused out loud, speaking the words, but not really believing them all too much.

"You'd be the first to agree with him then," Sarah said with a laugh.

"Hey, I resent that! Just because you don't have anyone doesn't mean that others don't," Harry retorted, missing the brief flash of hurt on Sarah's face.

"Anyway," Harry continued, undaunted by the lack of belief from his fellow squadmates, "you really have no one waiting for you at home Hermione?"

"No, I was a bit of a shut-in, so I never really had much in the way of friends, much less a lover. Besides, I never saw the need for one," Hermione replied, thinking back to endless days of reading, studying, or simply taking walks outside.

Harry turned and looked at her, an indecipherable expression flickering across his face before replying simply, "Everyone needs someone Hermione, that includes you." He turned back around and started messing with his weapon again, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Yes, well, when the war is over, I'll be sure to get right on that," She said, a bit flustered by Harry's declaration. A slightly awkward silence ensued, no one knowing quite what to say after that. Hermione decided to ask Harry the same question, if only to break the blanket of silence that had fallen on the trio.

What about you, Harry? Only fair that you answer the question too, seeing as I already answered, and you answered for Sarah apparently," Hermione said.

Harry took a few seconds to answer, seeming to think carefully about his choice of words, before saying nonchalantly, "Well, I used to be sweet on this one girl back home, but some circumstances arose, and she left me some time ago." He didn't seem too upset over the girl, so Hermione assumed that it was just a summertime fling, nothing too serious. If she had looked at Sarah's face earlier however, several of her questions would have been answered quite quickly, and her assumptions on a quick summertime fling would have proven to be very false.

Instead of that, however, when Hermione turned and asked if Harry's assertion earlier was true, she was greeted by Sarah's usual mask of indifference and an ever so slightly strained "yes."

Hermione wanted to ask Harry more about this mystery girl, but the moment had passed, and so she instead resolved to ask him after their mission was over.

She was about to lay back down and resume her watch when the sound of tank tracks grinding against the ruined street reached her ears.

"Contact, German armor!" She hissed quietly to Harry, who in turn, got on the radio to command to appraise them of their situation.

Hermione got back into position and quickly sighted up the end of the street through her scope where a Panzer IV had just rolled around the corner and was now headed straight towards them. Luckily, the tank crew didn't seem to notice them, or the pair of sappers that were taking up positions in the debris, waiting for a chance to slip a captured Teller mine underneath one of the treads to disable the beast.

"Harry, we have German infantry in support, they're taking up the rear, two columns, looks to be a squad," she said, and she knew that Harry would relay the information to Sarah, who in turn kept the sappers informed through a series of predetermined hand gestures.

Harry, having informed command of their situation, got down onto his stomach next to Hermione and put his lips right up against her ear.

"When I give the signal, you and Sarah will open fire. Pick off the squad escorting the Panzer so our sappers can disable the tank, and then climb on and kill the crew."

She shivered involuntarily at the close proximity to Harry, his warm breath against her skin causing goosebumps along her neck.

She could feel her face flush with color.

All she could do was give a stiff nod in return. Satisfied, Harry turned and gave Sarah, who had taken up a firing position a little ways away to her right, the same information.

She quickly reigned in her sudden bout of weakness and refocused her attention on the German squad. Her priority was always the officers first, and the MP-40s they were issued was always a dead giveaway. She put the head of the officer right in the middle of her 'T' reticle and waited for Harry's signal. As soon as the Panzer got halfway down the street, Harry tapped her shoulder twice, the signal to fire.

She breathed in, then let it out slowly, and squeezed the trigger.

The crack of her rifle echoed through the street, and a split second later the round punched a hole clean through the officer's head, and he crumpled without so much as a peep. The tank rolled on; the crew oblivious to the sound over the din of the engine. The German squad however immediately scattered, taking cover around the various piles of debris littering the street. One of the soldiers, the second in command, Hermione thought, darted out of cover and ran towards the tank, most likely to tell them to stop and take aim at the source of the shot. Hermione was about to shift her sights to the man when another crack from her right reverberated through the street, and he dropped dead, only making it halfway to the tank.

At this point, both Hermione and Sarah had to relocate, lest their position be located and taken under fire. As the pair picked their way through the destroyed building to their secondary firing post, Hermione could see Harry relaying orders to the sappers on the street to disable the tank. She looked further down the street and saw the MG team had set up behind a destroyed tank hull that provided clear sightlines straight down the road. Hermione knew the MG could cause serious problems for Harry and the sappers.

Having finished relaying his orders to the pair of sappers, Harry scrambled back up the makeshift ladder to their position and plopped down next to the pair.

"As soon as you two take out that MG-42, the sappers are going to run out and plant the mine directly in the path of the tank, which should disable it. You two just have to keep those Germans pinned, understood?" Without waiting for a response, Harry jumped back down and headed back to the Sappers to provide ground support.

"Looks like it's you and me, 'Ermione," Sarah said, jamming a fresh mag into her SVT and sighting up the nearest German to the Sappers and Harry. "I'll cover 'Arry and the sappers, you focus on that MG team." Despite being a higher rank than Sarah, Hermione let it slide, seeing as she was going to focus on the MG team anyway. Rank didn't really mean all that much to the trio anyway.

"Got it Sarah, I'm relocating, I don't have clear sightlines on the MG," She replied and stood to return to their previous firing post. Sarah called out a quick "be careful!" before refocusing on the soldiers inching forwards, still unaware of the sappers and Harry.

Hermione lay back down and sighted up the MG crew. She slowed her breathing and tried to get her heartbeat back down before taking the shot, the crack of her rifle alerting the Germans that they hadn't gone anywhere. She was rewarded with a spray of blood from the hole in the gunner's head, and a few seconds later, the assistant joined the gunner on the ground.

As soon as the MG team went down, Harry gave another signal and a sapper darted out from the destroyed ground floor of a cafe and sprinted towards the tank, which had almost made it to the end of the street. The sapper managed to plant the Teller mine in front of the tank, but not before the hull MG gunner spotted him, and quickly took him out in a spray of lead, leaving only one sapper to finish the job after the tank was disabled. Before the driver could be warned of the Teller mine in the way, the tank rumbled over it, causing a large explosion, completely destroying the left tank treads and leaving the tank unable to move.

She hoped that the explosion had also killed the crew inside, but the turret slowly turning towards Harry and the remaining sapper proved otherwise. Hermione could hear the rapid-fire of Sarah's SVT taking care of the remaining troops, but neither she nor Sarah could do anything about the tank. Harry was too busy firing from within the cafe at the Germans to notice the tank about to fire on his position.

A cold dread suddenly seized Hermione. If Harry and the sapper didn't move _right now _that cannon would tear them apart. She looked over at Sarah and saw her own emotions mirrored in the woman's eyes.

"Harry, Panzer!" She heard Sarah yell, and she saw him whip his head around towards the tank. Seeing the turret turning towards them, Harry grabbed the other soldier and scrambled away from the counter they had taken cover behind just as the turret fired a shell, completely destroying the cover they had occupied just a few seconds earlier and causing slivers of wood to fly in all directions.

After the dust cleared Hermione quickly peered down into the now even more destroyed cafe from her vantage point, heart racing, fearing the worst. She was relieved to see Harry slowly getting up, looking distinctly ruffled, but otherwise no worse for wear. The remaining sapper, however, was not so lucky, having got hit with multiple large wooden slivers in the torso.

"Harry!" She yelled, trying to get his attention. "That tank is still combat-capable; you have to get out of there now!" He didn't seem to hear her, as he was busy rifling through the dead sapper's explosives satchel, pulling out several RPG-40 Anti-Tank grenades and stuffing them in his pockets. She tried to get Sarah's attention, as she was closer to Harry, but she was still preoccupied with the remaining Germans to notice the danger to him.

Before she could even form the words to try to warn Harry again, the Panzer opened fire, engulfing the remains of the cafe in an explosion. Hermione could only stare in horror as one of her closest friends was vaporized before her eyes…

until the dust cleared and she saw a shimmering dome of golden light encompassing a mostly unharmed Harry Potter, holding what looked to be an ancient Roman Legionary _scutum _up at a 45-degree angle. The Shield must have been projecting the golden light barrier, protecting Harry from the 75mm tank shell.

She could only look on in a mixture of disbelief and elation as he got up and charged at the tank, shield held in front of him, somehow blocking the machine-gun fire coming from the coaxial MG. She looked down the scope of her rifle and saw that the bullets didn't actually impact the shield, but rather the golden barrier, each round causing a small rippling effect at each point of impact before dissipating.

Hermione glanced over at Sarah, who was several meters away, expecting her face to be one of shock or disbelief, but instead saw her staring directly at herself. As soon as they made eye contact, Sarah shook her head and mouthed '_later' _before turning back to watch Harry, having dispatched the rest of the German squad a few seconds after Harry put up his golden barrier. Her head was reeling with questions that she had no answers to, and as someone who was well educated in pretty much everything there was to be educated about, this was very disconcerting. One way or another, she would get her answers after this was over.

A large explosion shook her out of her musings, and she watched as the Panzer IV went up in flames, presumably by the copious amount of anti-tank grenades Harry took off of the dead sapper. Hermione slowly lowered her rifle and leaned it against the wall before taking a seat, her mind awhirl. She was joined by Sarah a minute later, and the pair sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

A slightly battered and bruised Harry Potter climbed back up to their little outpost and limped towards the pair, plopping down next to Sarah and leaned his head on her shoulder, letting out a groan of both pain and relief.

Hermione suppressed a flash of annoyance at the tender scene and turned to look Harry in the eyes, an expectant look on her face. She heard him sigh before sitting up and giving her his attention, both Harry and Hermione missing the near murderous look Sarah gave Hermione at the loss of contact.

"So, Hermione, any chance you can forget all that and just, pretend it never happened?" Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hermione snorted. "Not bloody likely Harry Potter, you have a lot of explaining to do."

Harry sighed in mock exasperation. "Fine, I'm assuming you have lots of questions then?"?"

"Yes, it's safe to say that I have lots of questions, and so far, no logical answers," she replied.

"Well, that's because there are no logical answers," he said.

"No logical answers?" She said incredulously. There had to be an explanation for the shield she saw, not to mention the fact that it now seemed to have disappeared after the firefight.

"Nope, that's because all of that involved magic." He paused, sharing a look with Sarah, who looked at Hermione briefly before turning back to Harry and giving him a small nod. "Sarah and I are magicals. More specifically, I'm a wizard, and she's a witch."

Hermione looked at the two for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter. After she regained her composure, she said, "That was a good joke you guys, but I hope you know that I won't let this go. What was that really? A secret weapon? Or maybe a prototype we stole from the Germans? Who knows what their scientists are making nowadays…" she trailed off, seeing neither of them had laughed along with her and were just staring at her.

Harry leaned forward and grabbed Hermione's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, and Hermione felt a quick jolt of _something _before he pulled away.

"Hermione, we aren't joking," he said seriously.

She shook her head, refusing to believe in such fantasies as magic. It was preposterous, magic? What was next? Aliens? None of those things existed, no matter what he said. She was beginning to think the war had gotten to the both of them, and they had cracked.

"Magic isn't _real _Harry," she said slowly, as if talking to a child about Santa or the Easter Bunny.

Instead of replying, Harry simply pulled out a thin stick, maybe a little less than a foot long, and pointed it at a brick. With a small burst of light, the brick was suddenly a small, black Labrador puppy, which playfully yipped at him.

She couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. She was utterly speechless.

There was no logical explanation for how a brick could have been turned into a puppy, it defied all convention. Hermione prided herself in knowing all there was worth knowing, and here was something that threw all of her knowledge out of the window. She just watched as Sarah picked the puppy up and started playing with it, making little cooing noises while Harry looked on, a smile gracing his features.

She did her best to ignore the tender scene and opted instead to just sit back and try to wrap her head around this new information.

Magic was real.

The proof was squirming in Sarah's arms.

"So… magic is real. Let's say I go along with this, and that I'm not just going crazy and hallucinating," she said to Harry, breaking the duo out of their cozy little world.

"Go on," Harry replied encouragingly, waiting for her to continue.

"Care to explain why you decided to reveal this to me? Seeing as I haven't seen any magic up until now, I'm assuming that magic is supposed to be hidden from us non-magical folk?"

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, an action Hermione found just a little endearing. Just a little.

"Sarah and I had planned on slowly breaking all of this to you, but seeing as I had to use magic to prevent myself from being a red smear on the wall, we might as well dump it all on you now."

And they did; Harry, with the occasional input from Sarah, told her all about the magical world. Explaining the mysterious school in Scotland he had told her about a while ago, various spells and other works of magic, Wizarding society in general, and eventually, the reason why Harry and Sarah were insistent on being with her through the war.

"You see Hermione, Sarah and I are basically the magical equivalent of police, Aurors, and we were sent to board the _Lancastrian Prince _to do one thing; get you from the ship and bring you to the magical world. Obviously, that didn't work out considering the boat sunk."

"But why?" Hermione said, confusion coloring her words. "Why am I so important to the magical world that I needed to be retrieved?"

"Well, you are the only living relative to one Hector Dagworth-Granger, therefore, you are the sole heir to the Dagworth-Granger vaults," Harry explained.

"Sole heir? Dagworth-Granger vaults? What does this all mean?" She said, overwhelmed by all the information suddenly placed upon her.

"The magical world is very heavy on familial ties for inheritances, and you being the only living relative, no matter how distant, magic recognizes you as the heir. As of two months ago, the Dagworth-Granger family vaults, and all the knowledge and wealth contained within, are now yours."

Again, Hermione was speechless. She owned one of those magical vaults Harry talked about? In a magical bank run by goblins? All of this was too much for her, especially seeing as, at the end of the day, they were still fighting in a war, trapped on the other side of the world, having to fight for a country they're not even a part of.

"So, what does this all mean for me?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Harry mused, "not much at the moment, seeing as we are stuck in Russia until the war is over. As soon as it's over though, you can either come with us and claim your property, or if you don't want to, we _obliviate_ you of all magical memories and you go about your life without any knowledge of the magical world."

Hermione, after giving it a moment's thought, knew immediately what she would do. Of course she would go with Harry and Sarah. This was the opportunity of several lifetimes to go see a world very few had ever seen, to learn all there is to learn about magic and magical culture. The decision was a no brainer, even if she was still trying to wrap her head around the idea of magic.

"I'll go with you," she said resolutely.

Harry gave her a smile that was positively radiant, and his eyes lit up with excitement, causing her to blush slightly and duck her head.

"That's great! I was really hoping you'd say yes. As soon as this war is over, you and I can head to Gringotts, and after that I could show you all sorts of magical stores. There's _Flourish and Blotts_, you'll love it there, all kinds of books, we could stop at Florence Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and get ice cream, we could-"

"Harry!" Sarah said loudly, jolting him out of his hyperactive state.

"I'm sure that Hermione would love to go to all of those places with _us_," she began, putting an extra emphasis on _us_, Hermione noticed, "but right now we need to focus on keeping each other alive long enough for us to get back."

"Oh, right, sorry about that," Harry said sheepishly, suddenly realizing he had been borderline babbling.

Sarah just rolled her eyes in fond exasperation before picking up her rifle and made to stand up.

"Come on you two, let's head back to camp, I'm sure Hermione has lots more questions about our world, and I for one would feel a lot better underneath some wards."

"Yeah, you're probably right, ready to head back Hermione? I can answer any more questions you have on the way to and in camp," Harry said, also packing up his gear.

"Sounds good, I think I'll hold off on the questions until we get to camp though, I need to process all this stuff," she replied. She was still very shocked and unnerved by the fact that magic, something that everyone universally agreed was _**NOT **_real, was in fact actually real, and the proof just happened to be a black lab that Sarah was now lugging around and looked to be here to stay.

"No problem, let's head back. I could use some hot food right about now," Harry said.

With that said, the trio headed back to base camp, where hot food, warm sleeping bags, and lots of questions awaited.

~o0o~

The trip back to base camp was fairly uneventful, as the trio were passing through the Russian held portions of Stalingrad, so there was little in the way of action besides the occasional artillery or mortar round.

Harry filled her in on the current state of Sarah and his mission, now that she knew why they were sticking with her, Harry told her that she might as well know everything. They had been tasked with by the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Torquil Travers, to bring her into the fold in regards to the magical world so that she can claim the Dagworth-Granger vaults. Apparently, there were several prototype potions recipes that the late Hector Dagworth-Granger ordered to be sealed away upon his death, to be reopened only by his heir. The Ministry was willing to pay her an extraordinary amount to retrieve the potentially (magical) world-changing potion recipes. Unfortunately, they couldn't leave Stalingrad until the Germans were pushed back because the mundane government had petitioned their magical counterparts into keeping the three on the frontlines to spear-head operations that normally would require a lot more men to accomplish. Harry's above-average magical prowess and reputation for killing a minor dark lord a couple of years ago meant that the magical Russian ministry wanted to keep him in the fight as long as possible. After all, if mundane Germany took over Russia, Grindelwald would soon follow. The earliest they would be willing to part with the trio was after Stalingrad was secured.

He had sent a mission update to the DMLE shortly after making contact with Hermione, appraising them of their current situation, and asking the head of the DMLE to talk to their Russian counterparts in the hopes that they could convince them to spare some men to assist the two Aurors in keeping Hermione safe. two Aurors, however highly trained, were not enough to protect someone in the middle of a warzone, especially an apparent VIP such as herself. Unfortunately for the trio, he had received no response thus far, so it looked like they were on their own for now.

They would just have to make do with what they had for now and hope it was enough to make it through the war.


	3. ch 3 - What's the Story, Morning Glory?

**A/N: Not a lot of action here, but a lot of character interactions and dialogue. This chapter is probably going to be the last really dialogue-heavy chapter for a while, as the next couple will focus on action. The Romance will come soon though, no worries with that, it's just a slow burn, just the way I like it. This is the last chapter I have that has been fully planned out, so after this chapter, I'm basically winging the chapters in between this one and the last chapter, which has been planned out. This will result in a slowdown in uploads, but for those that are interested in my story, it will be finished, no worries. Thanks to those who follow/favorited this brainchild of mine, as well as the two people who left reviews on chapter two, y'all are great.**

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Ch. 3 - What's the Story, Morning Glory?

* * *

**October 31st, 1947**

"_Was there any point during our stint as Russian soldiers that you genuinely enjoyed, Hermione?"_

"_Oh sure, there was the two weeks we had away from the front lines, I enjoyed the R&R."_

"_That was nice, wasn't it?"_

"_It sure was, though I could have done with less of Sarah clinging to you like a lost puppy."_

"_To be fair, I did let her keep the black lab."_

"_Not what I meant Love."_

"_I know. Anyway though, this again? I thought we already talked about it before your retelling of the Panzer IV incident?"_

"_No, I merely stated Sarah's interest in you and relegated the story for another time. Now is that time."_

"_I suppose Tania didn't help the situation any either, huh?"_

"_No, she did not."_

"_Aww, were you jealous Hermione?"_

"_..." _

"_You were!"_

"_Shut it, Potter, whether or not I was jealous of Sarah is a moot point. Especially since I was not." _

"_Whatever you say, love. What's next, storyteller?"_

"_Meeting Tania and her squad probably. They made me feel a lot better about going out into the field, even if her presence caused Sarah to act like a clingy ex._"

"_You're just confirming that you were, in fact, very jealous."_

"_Shut it, Potter."_

~o0o~

She remembered feeling happy when she found out that the British DMLE had convinced their Russian brethren to attach a Heavy Weapons squad to their little trio.

Hermione had gotten used to the idea of magic after a couple of weeks. It helped that Harry took every opportunity to immerse her in magic, to show her that it was, in fact, real. The self-updating _Hogwarts: A History _textbook he gave her helped a lot too. It had become her new norm, one that she had begun to come to terms with. They had taken to spending hours at a time in his tent, often having conversations that had nothing to do with magic itself. She cherished those moments with Harry, and he steadfastly became a very important part of her life, one she was terrified of losing to the war.

She remembered being a lot less happy when she found out that the squad leader of said Heavy Weapons squad was a woman. Normally, she wouldn't have had a problem with it, but her presence must have tipped some kind of scale in Sarah's mind because she was all of a sudden _always _with Harry. Before, it wasn't so bad. But with Tania joining the squad, Sarah was attached to Harry like a starving man to a buffet line. The only time she got any one on one time with Harry was during their chats. Any other time, Sarah was an ever-present specter, albeit one that Harry didn't seem to mind one bit.

Sarah had never overtly stated her amorous intentions towards Harry, but ever since their conversation about having someone to come home to, she started to notice subtle things Sarah did to show an obvious attraction to the man; lingering touches, certain looks, certain words spoken, all blended together to paint a pretty clear picture.

She remembered thinking that sometimes she felt like the world wanted her to be a lonely spinster.

~o0o~

**August 21st, 1942**

Hermione was vaguely aware of the sound of voices outside of the tent she shared with Vaillancourt. One was clearly British, while the other was decidedly Russian. The translation charm Harry had cast on the trio translated the words well enough, but the accents tended to bleed through. She hadn't had the chance to tell Harry that she could understand and speak Russian just fine, but the extra help in the area wouldn't hurt, she mused afterward. Harry tended to sound like a fish out of water to her trained ears, but at least he got his point across. Setting her rifle down after a thorough cleaning, she put on her boots and stepped outside to see what was up.

The scene she was met with was unexpected, to say the least. She was expecting the Heavy Weapons squad any day now after finding out they were being sent, but she didn't expect to see Harry standing a few feet away from her, shaking the hand of a brown-haired woman, who was quite beautiful, she thought absentmindedly. Standing behind her were 4 soldiers, who she assumed was a part of the woman's squad. All of them were seriously kitted. Instead of walking over to the pair, she decided to sit back and observe the new arrivals instead.

Each soldier had on a steel helmet, SN-42 prototype body armor, and was armed to the teeth with several grenades and heavy weapons. Two carried DP-28 light machine guns, and the other two had SVT-40 semi-automatic rifles like Sarah. The woman Harry was conversing with had the same get-up as her squadmates, with her helmet tucked under her arm at the moment, and her SVT slung across her back. As she walked over to the duo, she caught the tail end of their conversation.

"... sent by Russian High Command to assist you in any way possible for the duration of the war. My squad is yours to command, comrade-captain."

"Very good Lieutenant," Harry said. "You are dismissed, I'll come find you and your squad when we move out."

She saw the woman throw Harry a quick salute, which he returned. The woman turned and told her squad to make themselves at home. As they walked away, she turned back to Harry and leaned in close to whisper something to him. Harry's eyes momentarily widened before he gestured to his tent, clearly taking their conversation somewhere more private. As the two walked into his tent, Hermione was startled out of her musings by Sarah's voice.

"Who is the new girl?" Clearly, Sarah was not happy with the new development, especially if her tone was any indication.

"I don't know," she replied. "I came out of the tent and she was already standing out here with Harry and four other soldiers, who I assume are all part of the squad that got assigned to us."

"Hmph," was all Sarah said before walking off towards Harry's tent in a huff.

_This was going to be a _long _day._

~o0o~

After ten minutes or so, a disgruntled looking Harry, a noticeably unhappy Sarah, and an indifferent new addition walked out of the tent and towards her spot outside the tent she shared with the French woman, where she was waiting for them.

"Hermione," Harry started, "this is Lieutenant Tania Chernakova, squad leader of the Heavy Weapons squad the Russian high command sent us." Seeing the questioning look in her eyes, Harry was quick to assuage her concerns. "Don't worry, she knows all about us. She comes from the Russian side of things, if you understand my meaning."

"I understand Harry, happy to have you aboard Lieutenant Chernakova, you and your squad are a welcome addition," Hermione said to the woman.

"Please, Ms. Granger, call me Tania, I'm sure we will be seeing each other a lot, so no need for formalities," Tania said warmly, a stark contrast to her earlier expression.

"All right then Tania, Hermione to you too," She replied with a small smile.

"Wonderful," Harry interjected, "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for guys to get to know each other, but If you two would excuse us, I'd like to speak to Hermione alone." he grabbed her hand and started to lead her to his tent, the pair missing the disgruntled look Sarah threw their way before she settled down to get to know the new addition.

She tried to ignore how much she liked having her hand in his.

Hermione could only go along as Harry took her to his tent and pulled out his holly and phoenix feather wand to cast several privacy charms to keep their conversation away from prying ears. Despite having been in Harry's tent numerous times to discuss magic and other topics of conversation, she still found herself looking around as he cast the spells.

The interior was quite spartan, with a large wooden table dominating most of the admittedly spacious tent, with a smaller table off to the side with several miscellaneous parts for Harry's PPSH-41 strewn about the table's surface. Harry's Roman _Scutum_ was leaning against the smaller table, and upon laying her eyes on it, she resolved to ask him the history of the shield, being quite versed in ancient history herself.

"So, the good news is, as you no doubt have already figured out, my letter to the British head of the DMLE was received, and they managed to get us a Heavy Weapons squad as added security, which is much more than I thought we would get, considering how stretched thing the Red Army is already," Harry said as he pulled up a chair and motioned for her to do the same. "The other thing is Tania is a magical too. More specifically, she's a Russian Auror, so we can count on her for some extra magical backup. Her squad has been briefed on the situation, and is aware of magic too, so no worries there."

Hermione got the feeling that there was going to be a severe 'but' to all of this good news, and Harry didn't disappoint.

"Unfortunately, this extra muscle comes at a price. Russian high command has been trying to gain a foothold in Stalingrad for a while now, ever since we've been pushed back to the docks of the Volga," Harry said, going into captain mode. "As my XO, I've deemed it necessary to share this bit of information with you. Take a look at this map Command sent me."

He gestured to the large table dominating Harry's tent, where a black and white map was pinned to it, showing the Russian lines, and the German lines, and just how close the Germans really were to pushing the Russians right into the Volga. Harry pointed to an encircled building about half a mile away from their current position.

"This is a three-story housing complex on the frontlines that command wants us to retake from the Germans and establish an FOB. Probes indicated a force of maybe a dozen and some change holding the building, so we are going in undermanned, but command can't spare any more troops for this, so it's just us and two other squads. They're also sparing three T-34's to get us there and back, and to provide anti-tank support."

Harry then shifted his finger and pointed to another circled building, labeled, 'market,' two blocks away from the target building. "To have some element of surprise, as well as make sure our tanks don't get destroyed, they will drop us off at a rally point, here. We will then dismount and proceed on foot to the target. Once the target building is secured, we'll radio the tanks to pull up to the building and pick us up, leaving behind a squad and one tank to hold down the fort until reinforcements arrive."

Hermione didn't quite know what to think about this new mission. She was a sniper, fit for reconnaissance and area denial, not street fighting and CQC inside buildings. In addition to her qualms about her role in the mission, she was also concerned about their actual capacity to take on German armor. While the Panzer IVs were not inherently better than their Russian counterparts, more often than not the crews were better trained, and the tanks in better working condition than the often rushed into combat T-34s. She decided to just focus on her role and let Harry worry about everything else.

"Harry," she started, planning on asking him what exactly her role as a sniper would be when Harry beat her to the punch.

"I know, I know, you aren't meant for CQC and street fighting," Harry said, saying aloud exactly what she was thinking.

Hermione nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"Well, that's why you and I aren't going in with everyone else. We are going to be providing overwatch in case reinforcements show," He continued, and pointed to a second building across from their target. "We're going to post up here and watch the street for any Germans. You get me all to yourself Hermione," Harry finished with a roguish smile and a wink.

She could feel herself flush with color. _Damn him and his antics!_

She noticed recently that Harry had taken to trying to make her blush as much as possible after she reluctantly told him about her inexperience with flirting. Being a somewhat insular person, she often got flustered and embarrassed the few times someone tried to flirt with her back in Britain. Her general lack of experience in romance didn't help matters any either.

_I bet Sarah won't be very happy when she finds out about this arrangement_. Speaking of Sarah…

"What does Sarah think about all this, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry turned and looked at her sheepishly, a small blush of his own adorning his admittedly handsome features.

"Yes, well, I was kind of hoping you would tell her?" Harry said hopefully.

Hermione couldn't help the laughter bubbling up in her throat and let loose a peal of laughter.

"Harry Potter, you took down a Panzer IV all by yourself, but telling Sarah she won't be with you during a mission has you cowering in your boots?"

"Hey! I resent that," Harry said indignantly. "Sarah is bloody scary when she gets miffed at me!"

"Aw, is Harry is scared of a petite French woman?" Hermione said mockingly, a smile blunting her comment.

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up Granger," Harry retorted. "Send in Sarah, I think it's better to get this conversation over with now."

"I can do that, good luck Captain Potter," Hermione said, throwing a mock salute his way before heading towards the tent exit.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry blurted out suddenly, causing her to almost trip over a chair next to the tent flaps.

"Yes?" She said hesitantly, slightly concerned by the apparent urgency in Harry's tone.

"I, uh," he started to stammer, before clearing his throat and starting again, face slightly red. "What I meant to say is, I haven't seen you around the past two days, and I was wondering if you still wanted to meet for our talks? I mean, it's totally fine if you don't want to, you're not obligated to or anything like that."

She had been preoccupied the past two days, and with Sarah hanging around Harry so much, she just assumed that Harry didn't want to have their little talks anymore. She would never admit it, but it hurt a little knowing that Harry spent all that time with Sarah and never sought her out to have another one of their chats. She just assumed that Harry didn't mind. _Apparently not if he's bringing it up. _The thought made her feel warm inside, now she knew that Harry missed her company as much as she had.

"I'm sorry Harry, I've been a little preoccupied the past two days. I'd love to spend some time with you," Hermione said with a smile.

She was rewarded with a large smile from Harry. "That's great! I'll see you tomorrow then."

Hermione nodded and exited the tent feeling happier than she did going in, intent on finding Sarah and letting her know that Harry wanted to talk to her. She didn't have to go far, as she nearly bumped into the blonde woman coming out of the tent.

"Oh, Sarah!" Hermione stammered, not expecting to run into the woman she was looking for so soon. "Harry wanted to talk to you about our upcoming mission in the tent and sent me to look for you after our briefing. You can head on in."

Instead of heading in like she expected her to do, Sarah stood and regarded Hermione for a second. "You were in there for a while Hermione," Sarah said, the tiniest hint of an accusation coloring her words.

Hermione was caught off guard by her words and struggled to come up with a reasonable retort, completely forgetting that she didn't need one, seeing as all they did was talk about their upcoming mission.

"I, uh, all we did was look at the battle map and discuss future operations," Hermione said, her words coming out stilted and slightly awkward. She resisted the urge to wring her hands together. Sarah simply tilted her head slightly to the side, as if pondering the veracity of her statement before nodding once and heading inside. _I really dodged a bullet there. She really needs to just snog that man and get it over with. _

The thought caused a momentary tightness in her chest, and Hermione was left pondering the feeling for a few seconds before simply discarding it. She shook her head and headed towards Tania, intent on getting to know her new squadmate better.

~o0o~

**August 22nd, 1942**

True to her word, Hermione went to Harry's tent the day after their mission briefing and spent several hours catching up with her captain.

"So, one of your ancestors was a battlemage for the 10th Roman Cavalry Legion?" Hermione asked incredulously, staring at the _scutum _that Harry was currently showing her. The shield itself was rather basic, just a red background with a polished round iron plate at the center, two black bulls above and below the plate, and the words _X Leg _to the left and right of the plate.

"Yup, pretty great huh?" Harry said proudly, admiring the shield for a few seconds before putting it down. "Apparently, he enchanted this shield with some ancient runes that let it project a dome of protective energy outwards, essentially doubling the amount of area the shield can protect. It's not perfect, of course, the enchantments were never meant to stop anything more than a few volleys of arrows or spears, and can only project the barrier from the front, leaving you vulnerable from behind and the sides."

"So, what you're saying is, the shield was never meant to stop high-velocity cannon rounds?" Hermione said with a snort.

"Yeah, I don't think they had those back in Caesar's days," Harry said with a laugh.

"Well, if the enchantments were never meant to stop something like a cannon round, how did you survive? I remember you glossing over an Ancient Runes class you took with Sarah at Hogwarts, but you never really went into any more detail," Hermione said as she picked up the shield to get a closer look at the little runes etched into the inside.

"Well, I never really paid any attention in that class," Harry admitted sheepishly. "Sarah is the one you'd have to ask for a more in-depth discussion of the shield, but basically they are powered by the user's magic, at least according to _Advanced Runes Made Easy_. Once I run out of magic, the shield is just a regular shield, so I have to be careful how long I use the thing. I almost magically exhausted myself going up against that Panzer IV because I had to pour in a large amount of my magic in order to strengthen the barrier enough to survive."

Hermione thought back to the moments after Harry joined her and Sarah up in the observation nest after the battle and noted that he did, in fact, look very tired and on the verge of collapsing. "Well, let's just hope that you won't have to take on a tank by yourself next time," Hermione said with a short laugh.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry said quietly, seemingly staring right through the shield in her hands to some faraway place.

"Hey, Harry, look at me," she said softly, giving his shoulder a slight shake.

His head snapped up, and green eyes met hazel before darting away quickly.

"You okay Harry?"

"Yeah," He said unconvincingly.

"Harry," she said in a mock-serious tone. "Don't make me bring Sarah here. What's wrong?"

"No no, that's okay, you don't have to do that," Harry said quickly. He sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair in agitation. "It's just, I came so close to dying that day, and I don't think it's really hit me until now."

"Oh, Harry…" she said softly, putting the _scutum _down and wrapping him up in a soft embrace. She was struck by how warm he was, and how good it felt to have him in her arms, the smell of gun oil mingling with grass, and an unidentifiable smell she could only attribute to Harry enveloping her. She could feel his warm breath on her neck, and if she just tilted her head down just a little…

startled by the distinctly non-platonic thoughts floating through her mind, she quickly let go of Harry and sat back down in her chair, her heart racing. She already missed his warmth. Luckily, Harry didn't mention the hug or her sudden extraction from it, simply content to sit in his chair and look at her, a small smile on his face. How she wished she knew what he was thinking. Did he enjoy the hug? Was it too forward? An invasion of personal space? She chastised herself on her silly, schoolgirl-esque thoughts. She was 23, a soldier fighting a bloody war, she was better than this foolishness.

"It'll be alright Harry, we'll make it out of here, all three of us, and you can show me all your favorite places in Diagon Alley," Hermione said, trying to steer the direction away from her impulsive embrace.

"I hope you're right Hermione, I hope you're right."

He sighed and stood up from the chair he'd been occupying during their talk and walked towards a side table. "Thanks, Hermione, I really needed that. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"It's a good thing you won't have to find out then, huh?" She said, the sentence coming out like a joke, but she knew it had a very real element of truth to it. Somehow this man had wormed his way into her life, and she couldn't imagine what it would be like without him.

"A good thing indeed, Ms. Granger, a good thing indeed." Harry turned around after rummaging through a pile of junk on the table and presented an ordinary-looking pack of cards to her. "Exploding Snap?"

"What's Exploding Snap?" She asked warily, not liking the mischievous look on his face or the name of the game itself. She was, however, glad that he seemed to have snapped out of whatever it was that got him down earlier.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Harry said, an evil grin adorning his features.

~o0o~

**August 30th, 1942**

The rest of her leave was spent either with Harry or getting to know Tania. Hermione found that she quite enjoyed the woman's presence, much more than she did Sarah's often icy exterior. She sometimes wondered what Harry saw in the French woman but didn't want to pry. With a twinge of annoyance, she found herself on the back of a T-34 with said French woman, along with several other soldiers taking part in the establishment of a FOB. Harry and Tania were in the tank behind them along with her squad, with an additional third squad on a tank in front of them.

So far, they had run into no resistance as they trundled along the destroyed streets of Stalingrad on the way to their objective, the sounds of distant explosions and gunfire keeping them company. No one spoke, each soldier lost in their own thoughts, the air heavy with a mix of anxiousness, nervousness, and most predominantly, fear.

As their rally point came into view at the end of the narrow street, an abandoned market two blocks away from the target, a deafening roar was heard, along with an explosion of light and sound directly in front of Hermione. The lead tank in their convoy was engulfed in fire by a well-hidden anti-tank gun, the soldiers on the back were wreathed in flames as they leaped off the flaming tank onto the ground, struggling to put themselves out. The smell of burning flesh and the screams from the flaming soldiers invading her senses.

"Ambush!" Harry yelled, jumping off his tank along with Tania and her squad. "Get off the street!" He gestured to a nearby building as the hiss and pop of bullets echoed all around them. Hermione watched as two of her fellow soldiers were hit, their bodies tumbling off of the tank.

"Hermione come on, let's go!" Sarah yelled next to her, leaping off the back of the T-34 with deadly grace, rifle in hand, bracing it against the tank and squeezing off a couple rounds in the general direction of the German fire. She quickly joined her comrade in arms, propping her Mosin on the tank and searching frantically for a target in the smoky haze. Bullets whizzed by, some ricocheting off the sloped armor and producing small sparks of yellow light.

Sarah tapped her shoulder and pointed to a pile of rubble at the end of the street. She could see the glint of a barrel protruding from the top of the pile. "MG-42 behind that rubble, take out the gunner so we can make a run for the building," Sarah yelled into her ear, struggling to be heard over the deafening reports of gunfire.

Hermione brought her scope to bear on the target, aiming for the gunmetal grey helmet of the gunner before letting out a shaky breath and squeezing the trigger, the crack of her rifle drowned out by all the other sounds around the pair. She watched as her round flew straight and true, impacting dead center, sending a spray of blood into the air as the gunner crumpled to the ground, dead. She quickly planted her 'T' sight on the assistant gunner and squeezed the trigger, her efforts rewarded with another dead German.

"Sarah!" Hermione yelled into the woman's ear. "MG is down, run towards the building, I'll cover you from here." Sarah nodded and got ready to make a run for the doorway. Hermione slung her rifle over her shoulder and picked up a dead soldier's PPSH in order to lay down suppressive fire. "Now Sarah!"

Sarah broke out from behind the T-34 just as it fired a round from its 76mm gun, taking out a decent chunk of building across the way where the Germans likely were. The explosion provided decent cover, and along with the combined efforts of Hermione, Harry, and Tania, Sarah made it to the building unscathed. Unfortunately for Hermione, a second MG had been set up and had the narrow street on lockdown, preventing her from dashing to the building where the rest of her squad resided.

"Hermione, come on!" She looked out from behind the tank and saw that Harry had run out to a position halfway between her and the building with his _scutum_ out, the golden dome of light rippling from the rapid-fire impacts of German bullets. Dropping the sub-machine gun in her hands, she sprinted out from cover and dashed towards Harry as fast as she could, knowing that the shield could fail at any moment from the sheer amount of fire being concentrated on him. She only made it halfway before the golden barrier shimmered and then flickered out of existence, forcing an exhausted Harry to collapse back into the building lest he be killed. Unfortunately for Hermione, her mad dash only got her halfway to the building, and with Harry gone, the remaining Germans refocused their attention on her. Small clouds of dirt kicked up all around her feet as she ran, bullets whizzing by as the Germans slowly drew a bead on her.

She was so close, she could see Sarah and Tania leaning out the doorway, firing their weapons in a desperate attempt to draw attention away from her. She was a mere ten paces away when a cacophony of light and sound engulfed her senses and she found herself in the air, and a precious few seconds ticked by as she experienced a cruel form of weightlessness before she slammed into the side of the building. Pain exploded from her chest as she slid down the wall, her vision fading, and her ears ringing. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, so she just lay where she landed, wondering, _what happened? _

The last thing she saw before succumbing to the darkness was a mess of black hair and startling green eyes.


End file.
